Another Riddick Story
by Sad Fairy Of Tears
Summary: just another twist to an old fav...will be taken up again soon, there was a death in the family, and right now i can't think of anything
1. Chapter 1

**((A/N: This is the second story I have posted, it's been buggin me since I went on a two week long Riddick binge. Still slightly obsessing about it, which is why I have decided that this story will branch out into three…I Hope, depends on the reviews(remember that!). I am open to any critisim, or ideas that would make this Fanfiction better, as long as it is not over the top. Now lets see if I can entertain you for a bit. . . ))**

**Disclaimer: Don't own, but that's what fantasies are for right? **

**Another thing, I can't tell you how the language is going to go, as for the contents, well that's what the rating is for!**

**Another Riddick Story **

**Chapter One Oh Hell. . . **

_*** * I can't escape this hell. . .so many times I've tried. . . **_

_**But I'm still caged inside. . .somebody get me through this nightmare,**_

**I can't control myself!**

_They say most of your brain shuts down in cryo-sleep. All but the primitive side. . .The animal side. . ._

_No wonder I'm still awake. . ._

_Transporting me with civilians. . .sounded like 40. . .40 plus. Hear an Arab voice, some whodo Holyman. . .probably on his way to New Mecca, but what route?. . .what route? _

_Smelled two women. Tool belt, leather, sweat. Prospector type. The other a mix of cinnamon and vanilla._

_The real problem was the blue eyed devil next to him, armed with a big gauge shotgun and a few of Riddick's favorite toys(knives). _

_He's planning to take me back to a slam. . .only this time he picked a ghost lane. _

_A long time between stops. _

_A long time for something to go wrong. _

She struggled to pull herself to consciousness, her mind clouded by a thick swirling fog of cold. Shivering she pushed through the fog. _What the hell is this?!_ She thought to herself, her entire body felt numb, and she could swear there was drugs running through her body.

She felt one of her fingers twitch, it was kinda odd really, to want to do something and your body having no wish to respond to those commands. Lifting her eyelids was a feet all it's own, feeling as though they were weighed down.

Her throat was painfully dry, and she had to clear her throat to rid herself of the annoying itch, hunger beginning to make itself known. Frowning slightly, Andria Sheppard finally managed to move her arm. . .only to be stopped short, her blurred vision focusing on the glass front of her container. Feeling the drug beginning to weaken, she lowered her confused gaze to see the thick chains binding her from practically head-to-toe.

_What happened? _Frowning slightly she wiggled experimentally, testing the tight bind. Though it didn't cut of all of her circulation, her legs were number than ice while the rest of her body began to grow warmer. Sighing at the thought of that bit of torture, she listened to the dull thrum of the ships engines, the steady _bleep, beep, _and_ buzz, _of the various instruments as the ship navigated on auto-pilot. _Where was she?_ The last thing she remembered was boarding _**her**_ ship, and preparing for departure to her home.

Had someone managed to recognize her even way out in the Tangier's system? She hadn't thought she was quite that popular.

Andria allowed her eyes to drift over the interior of the passenger hull. It appeared to be a simple transport ship, and she briefly wondered if she should be insulted, or count her blessings.

Her gaze fell on the first Cryo-pod on her left, a Holy man. Dark mahogany skin, and salt and pepper hair, he was mumbling prayers in his native language, the words rolling smoothly, the faith evident even in his cryo-sleep. Next to him were three young children, their skin surprisingly pale, and wearing similar robes to the Priest. Disciples? Probably. Next there was a young woman, her skin a rich honey while her hair was a midnight black. Next to her a man with a similar dark complexion. Where they brother and sister, or boyfriend or girlfriend? She couldn't smell them well enough to figure it out.

A small white man came after them, his pale skin practically glowing in the dim lighting. With short black hair slicked to his head, and a pair of glasses resting on his thin nose. His clothes were ornate, if not somewhat similar to the Priest.

A boy with short cropped reddish brown hair and surprisingly feminine features, the stature somewhat thin.

Aha, she thought with a small mental laugh. Now she knew who had her here. Though his name was a mystery, the cop uniform he wore spoke volumes. He had her on this ship as his 'prisoner'. Scowling at the tall blonde human, she almost didn't hear the small pings traveling through the ship at a rapid rate.

Her ears twitched, the slightly pointed tips emerging from underneath her trapped hair. _What is that? _

A sharp hiss cut through her line of hearing and she watched as what looked like small rocks pelted through the thick steel walls of the ship like it was nothing more than paper, their speed faster than bullets.

Glass shattering drew her startled eyes to her left, in time to see the rocks had somehow managed to hit the Captain of the ship. Right in the heart.

_Are you kidding me? _She wondered slightly as the pilots cryo containers began to light. A sharp alarm cutting through the silence. A warning.

Remembering the hiss as the stones had tore through the wall, she allowed her gaze to go back to the entry hole, her fears confirmed as she realized that the oxygen lines had been cut, the oxygen they all needed flying out the holes into the vaccum of space.

Sudden cursing filled her hearing as she listened to the miss-rhythm of the ships engines, and she turned to see the co-pilot gesturing wildly, his voice nearly frantic.

"Owens, he's dead." The man, Owens, didn't seem to hear her as she sat on the ground on all fours, continuing with his question.

"He's Dead, Owens! The Captain is Dead!!" Her voice was boarding on the brink of cracking.

It took them a moment before they began to move, the woman cursing viciously when she took her seat. Owens echoing her blasphemy a moment later.

"The engines been hit, damage is critical. Crash is imminent."

_Great, what else could possibly go wrong?_ Andria wondered, and then could have bitten off her own mental tongue. You would think she knew better that to say something like that in a situation even remotely like this one. It always came back to bite her in the ass.

Sighing, she closed her eyes, and allowed her head to fall back in her cryo-container, feeling the ship begin to buckle as it entered the atmosphere. The pull was strong, the ship coming down at a dangerous tilt. She hoped she survived this crash, or at least had enough strength left to kill the damn merc who had gotten her into this mess.

She awoke to heat from the heart of hell, and a bright light penetrating her eyelids until it felt as though they had dried up. Blinking she moved to worm her way away from it, that merc was going to pay for this indignity, but a sharp pain in her mid-drift brought her up short.

Gasping in surprise she winced slightly when a slow breath caused a fire to shoot through her chest down to her stomach.

Her ribs were beyond any doubt, broke, the number a mystery. How had she gotten wounded like this? The ship had hit at an angle that bent precisely where her cryo container and the child's were, Andria's squeezing in and smashing her ribs. The kid, was apparently fine though. Or at least she couldn't see a body.

Coughing at the odd feeling in her throat, she felt another's gaze rest on her back. The sensation so intense her skin actually tingled. Suppressing a small shiver, she allowed herself to ease onto her back, her head turning to see a man bound to a large I-beam, the support post broken at the top but sturdy enough to hold a human she supposed.

Her first impression was that he was quite large, while the next was to notice the lack of hair on his shining head.

Her eyes fell to the blindfold and bit between his teeth, and she found herself adding yet another sin to the merc's dangerously growing list. Allowing her gaze to travel the high-cheekbones, strong jaw, broad nose, and lips made for sin , his strong white teeth clamped around that cursed bit.

Shivering slightly at the menace she could practically feel emanating off of him, Andria allowed her gaze to travel over the rest of him.

Broad shoulders were revealed by the skin-tight muscle shirt he wore, the sharp black an intriguing contrast against his golden cupcake skin. ((I like food, I figured it could work as a description. Cupcakes are yummy.)) His arms were thick bands of muscle straining from being wrapped behind him around a large steel beam, pushing out his chest and making it seem even bigger.

A narrow rib cage lean hips, and strong legs, encased in nearly black cargo pants, she found she quite enjoyed looking at the man bound before her.

Now if only he didn't have the blindfold and bit.

Movement drew her attention back to the present and she frowned as she watched the man push himself to his feet, stretching almost to his very tip toes before intentionally dislocating his shoulders, and maneuvering his chains through the gap that somehow managed to be within his reach. She winced for him when he popped them back, a low grunt his only reaction.

Then he was falling, his hands out reached to grab something.

He landed practically on top of her, his head slamming against another misplace metal panel, but he was clutching the very cutting torch she had been eyeballing, in his hands.

She watched as he lay there, giving himself a few moments to re-gather his thoughts before he rolled to his knees, his goggled gaze focused on the cutting torch in his hands.

"Would you mind helping me out of my chains?" She asked, all her thoughts now on getting back at that damn merc, as she watched him slice through the chains around his ankle before using his feet to hold the torch steady for his wrists.

He didn't even acknowledge he had heard her question until he had finished cutting the chains. Reaching up he pulled the bit from his mouth with one hand and the blindfold with the other. Dropping the blindfold onto the ground, he pocketed the bit and chains, before pulling his goggles down over his eyes. Able to see better without the dark cloth blocking his visions half the time.

When he had accomplished his simple tasks, he rested his left forearm against his bent knee, allowing the torch to dangle from loose fingers, and turned his gaze towards her.

Her hair was slightly startling, the pure silver color rare even among the various races out there, bound underneath the chains wrapped very snuggly around her petite frame. He wondered who exactly she was to require _that_ much restraints, but pushed the thought from his mind as he tried to figure out how to cut through the thick steel without burning her.

Her face was small, a perfect oval, her skin pale enough to practically glow in his vision even in the shadow of the crashed ship. Large eyes dominate half of her face, ringed with thick black lashes, the color an intense red that seemed to swirl slightly.

Next, he allowed his gaze to flow over her high cheek-bones, pixie-ish nose slightly tip tilted, giving her a slightly haughty air, the curve of her jaw, and the curve of her stubborn chin, he finally stopped on her mouth, wondering how someone who managed to look innocent could have a mouth that would tempt a saint.

He was no saint, but neither did he have the time. He had to follow the merc, see if he could lead him to anything that could get him off of this planet, then all he had to do was hijack the ship -after he finished killing John's that is- and leave the other survivors on this rock.

"I'll make sure not to scream." She assured him, as though he was worried about her safety, mentally scoffing at the idea, he made sure to keep expression from his face.

"I'm assuming you know that this torch is going to sear a good part of you skin." His voice was deadpan, and he resisted the urge to raise a brow when she nodded.

"I know, I've had worse, I need to get out of the chains, mister, I could care less how the deed is done." Focusing on her eyes, he leaned closer, inhaling that rich cinnamon/vanilla that clung to her.

"Riddick, not mister." Was all he said as he pried the metal as far from her skin as possible before setting the torch to it, mentally braced for the scream.

When it did come he found himself grudgingly admitting that she was tougher than she looked. Though her whole body shook and her head was turned away, she never made a sound.

Curious.

Once he had finished cutting through the link, he quickly moved the heat from her skin, taking in the blackened skin that had nearly melted beneath that heat. There was no blood, the wound thoroughly cauterized, and even though the damage was mostly in one spot, it was severe, the skin boiling slightly as the heat cooled. The sunlight was going to hurt like hell, he bet.

She moved then, shrugging the chains from her shoulders and arms, her breathing slightly ragged at her heartbeat slamming rapidly.

"Thank you." She panted out as she shoved herself to her feet, the chain sliding from around her with its slack, and she stepped from the tangle.

Suddenly a small hand was thrust into his line of view and he nearly flinched back. Frowning slightly, he looked up at her, and taking in the small smile that formed on her lips, he pushed himself to his feet, amused to see that he towered over her nearly a foot, and she was forced to tilt her head back in order to look up at him, her eyes wide, and her mouth hanging open slightly.

"Your welcome." He didn't know why, but a moment later he reached out and wrapped his hand around her smaller one, and gave her hand a small shake.

Heat curled up her undamaged arm the moment his large hand enclosed hers, and she found herself staring at the sharp contrast of his golden skin against her much paler complexion, and the way her hand was swallowed by his own.

He released her hand a moment later and she gave him a slightly confused look, her fingers curling inward towards her palm to hold the heat of his hand there a moment longer. Had he felt that? She wondered, feeling her brows furrow slightly when he promptly turned to walk away.

_end of this chapter_

((A/N: To explain Riddick being able to see colors -though only in the light- I noticed on pitch black that when he was looking at Shazza -after Johns had ripped off his goggles- you could see the color of her clothes rather well. The colors are visible with his goggles but darkened. And remember to read and review!!))


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry this is not another chapter to the story, but I was reading over it and seen one too many errors. First chapter will be reposted with the second.


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